Now I Watch the Clock...

Reality is such a loaded word - seven letters substituting for nothing most of the time - if not disappointment, then disillusion, hypocrisy, and a loud harsh blow to the fluff parents insist on slapping into you.

The reality of the last twelve, fifteen hours is that I caved to an amazing presence, an overt proposition, finally said fuck it to my pathetic blur in life and went home with a stranger. A stranger that fit my half-assed play exactly. I walked into his domain oblivious to even if he was some psycho present day Mr. Goodbar (is that why that candy has big chunks of nuts?) and had the ultimate fucking night. He had the look, the strut, the fire...What he did I still don't entirely comprehend-it was as if my mind underwent an effervescent whirlpool, bombarded with everything to make me fall into his arms, let him lead me away to whatever awaited.

He had me-right there-I instantly went places mentally that I could only hope to one day reach through the pathways. What millions practice at, revisit time and time and time again to infect their souls with, what we chart mood tides and Moon rhymes for...he brought me there before I even followed him outside...

I didn't see his eyes at their fullest until we had clawed into bed, but they contained it. They held everything - the keys, the locks, the deconstruction. I got lost in his energy and in his habitat at that initial chivalrous gesture and for once, did not care what happened after...only that he did whatever he fed upon me for.